Time for a Goodbye
by Knead-Boric
Summary: *SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 5* 9 years after Chloe's death, Max has come to the Arcadia Bay Cemetery to bid her final farewell to her old partner-in-time. This one's a one-off story.


Time for a Goodbye by Knead-Boric

* * *

It was a drizzling afternoon in Arcadia Bay. Blue jays and magpies flocked underneath the shielding leaves of the tree branches, and squirrels hid in what quaint hovel they had dug themselves. The sun was shining in the sky despite the weather, its reflection twinkled in every puddle of rainwater. The breeze was soothing too, a gentle gust intruded here and there, but still soothing in spite of that. It was all quite scenic in a way. An almost whimsical picturesque scene from many of those indie feel-good eye-porn films.

In the cemetery laid an aging tombstone, its top was porous, having endured the weather over the years. On it was chiseled a name and date, one of a certain Chloe Elizabeth Price, who had lived from March 11, 1994 to October 7, 2013. Many years have passed since anyone has ever visited that particular grave, but on this rainy afternoon, a van pulled up to the cemetery. Out came a woman in a black dress wearing a beanie, followed by two other individuals. The woman signaled the two other people to stand back however, and proceeds alone to find herself standing in front of the grave of Chloe Price.

She is deeply saddened and stares at the grave for a while. Finding the courage and strength, she finally speaks.

"Hi Chloe, it's Max. Long time no see, eh?"

The grave doesn't respond.

"Oof, wowsers, this is gonna be hard."

She holds back a tear and continues.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't visit you often, Chloe. It's just that I've been so busy what with my photography job and all that I... didn't have the time... 'time', huh, funny..."

She puts down a rose in front of the grave.

"I talked with your mother on the way here. You'll be glad to know that she's moved on... not that she has forgotten about you of course. She really misses you, you know? I'm just glad to see her smile, I can't imagine how horrible it must've been when you.. died. David did what he can to help Joyce out, and it seems like it's worked out."

She chuckled.

"Now I know you may get mad at me, "Ohh how can you even say something positive about step-douche?" and junk, but he's a really nice guy actually. And besides... he makes a cool dad for your little bro..."

She looked down at a polaroid picture on her hand. It shows a little boy playing with his father. The mother is in the picture too, she's laughing. Max had taken this photograph that very morning. Smiling at the picture, she soon lays it down on Chloe's grave and continues.

"I've also moved on, as you can see. Yep, a whole 9 years and Super Max has become an 'avant-garde' photographier. People seem to like that butterfly pic for some reason. Can't blame them, but it's hard for me to even look at it. But I'm glad I published it, it makes me happy that people appreciate something that reminds me of you, and Rachel."

She remembered the picture. How gorgeous that blue butterfly was, how it shined and contrasted on that dirty bucket. How the camera flash made Max's faint, luminescent reflection on the image give off a reminiscence of Rachel Amber. She figures it must be a symbol of sorts. She never bothered further thinking about it though.

"You'll also be glad to know that I've dwelt in adventures of the romantic kind. But I always found myself coming back to this is one geek."

She looked back at her two companions, Warren and a little girl. The little girl seems to be 4 years old. Warren and the girl waved at Max. Both had somber looks in their faces.

"You like her? She's cute isn't she? I named her Chloe, after you."

She stared at the date inscribed on the gravestone.

"It was a hell of an adventure, wasn't it? How I jumped back in time, kicked ass, fucked around, just for you - but mostly for the hell of it. Now that'll be something I'll never forget."

She stops herself, almost as if she forgot about something.

"I've been thinking however. Had I ripped that photo, the butterfly one, would we have been happy together? I mean, all of the death and misery, but all of our adventures together would've still been. Would've still mattered after all."

She takes a second to contemplate.

"It wouldn't have been worth it though. I thought about it everyday ever since you died. All of Arcadia Bay would've been destroyed, just for you. We could have had our little drive to the sunset together, but then what? Drive out to Frisco and sip mojitos at the Bay Area's shore? With all of Arcadia dead? Would I rather have you at the expense of Arcadia Bay, at the expense of defying destiny? Make our adventures matter? Or would I have solely the memory of you, let nature take its course? It was a hard decision, Chloe.."

She stopped herself, she didn't come to talk morals. No, she had other things on her mind. The woman scratched the beanie on her head, shed a single tear that ran down her cheek, and continued.

"I'm sorry that things couldn't have been any different. Sometimes I'd like to think that maybe I could've stopped that storm, and save you at the same time. I thought that I wouldn't have to ever tell you goodbye. That I'd be able to fix everything with my powers, without consequence and without sacrifice. My head told me otherwise. I didn't need a trip to Psychedelia-Land to know that though."

She removes her beanie to reveal a bald head.

"I haven't used my time travel since you died. But the nosebleeds and headaches, they weren't just that. They weren't benign. Doctors say I don't have much longer to live. I tried to change it, jump into photographs, try to do things differently. It didn't work. They all brought me here, or someplace worse."

She attempts to refrain herself from crying. She succeeds, barely.

"I came here to say goodbye, Chloe. Not just reminisce. I just wanted to tell you how much a friend you were to me, and how much you mattered. I wanted to tell you how our journey together, the time we spent together – as much as they never "mattered", as much as they never truly happened, here – it mattered to me. And those memories mean more to me than anything that is truly real, anything that can truly be here."

The woman finally breaks down crying. Warren and their daughter quickly came to her side. But she quickly regains her composure.

"I tore across time and space, I hurt myself, just for you. I don't regret it. As much as you are now dead, and not with me. But what we went through together, when we beat Arcadia Bay, we were more alive than anything. And isn't it all that that should matter? Weren't you living?"

After a while, the woman and her family leaves. The gravestone is left with its offerings, to continue to sit alone. She wasn't wrong, that girl. In a way, Chloe was living.

As the family van pulled from the parking lot. A lone blue butterfly rested on the grave, and watched their departure.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I made this fan-fic on a whim, influenced by total boredom. That, and the ending of the game made me cry like a little bitch. So I just had to write this. Hope you've enjoyed. Comments and criticisms are welcomed.

Note that the narrator _barely_ utters Max's name (Only twice, has he done so). "Was that a stylistic choice of yours?", you may ask. The answer is yes-and-no. It just didn't feel right to have that narrator speak Max's name, as if he knew her. I don't know why, but I just felt that way.

Originally this was supposed to be a poem, but after realizing that I was terrible at it, I stopped after only making 2 four-lined stanzas. So please, enjoy this hastily-made, incomplete poem as a post-presentation:

* * *

Hella strange life was,

When I played time and space.

Never left things as was,

because I felt so out of place.

Until I lost my partner in crime,

did I learn to leave her behind.

Told me that all'll be fine,

if I just stop messing with time.


End file.
